Sanctuary
by Out of Options
Summary: Tommy Shelby is left for dead but finds sanctuary in a little back-to-back in Balsall Heath. Season 3 post Grace. I'd love to say that the Peaky Blinders were all mine but they really aren't. This is my first piece ever - please be gentle!
1. Chapter 1

Alice Wilton sighed with exhaustion and hugged her thin coat tighter around her, a bottle of gin gripped in one hand. She'd done 11 hours at The Clifton that day, both behind the bar and cleaning up after the lock in so she was dead on her feet and desperate for bed. Fortunately it was only a short walk from Ladypool Road to her small back to back. Balsall Heath at night was not the safest place for a woman alone but she was a local and well liked so she walked confidently and without fear, grateful for the light cast by the full moon. Respectable housewives in the area thought well of her for she kept a clean house and entertained no men. And if she liked a drop of gin a bit more than was proper, well who was to complain. A body could only take so much grief and she had had it in full measure. Likewise the women's sons and husbands respected the work she'd done during the war and noted the understanding in her sad eyes so left her unmolested.

Men went to The Clifton both to remember and to forget. It was a veterans' place where old comrades gathered to talk of times past and toast the memories of those who had not returned. Mostly though they went there because they needed somewhere where they did not need to explain their brooding silences, flashes of rage, or the bitter tears they shed when in their cups. Alice took shifts there for many of the same reasons. She'd trained as a nurse before her marriage but since her service during the war she found that she had no heart for it. Occasional bar work suited her. It got her out of the house, supplemented her meagre pension, and provided a distraction for her battered mind. With any luck she would sleep without nightmares that night.

Married at 19 and widowed at 22 in the early years of the war, all she had left to mark her earlier happiness was a telegram from the War Office, a small widow's pension, and a grave marker for a stillborn child. Grief had driven her to offer her services as a nurse overseas and she had travelled first to France and then to Belgium. She had seen the hell of battle, the broken minds and bodies of the fighting men. Now, although she still grieved for her loss, a small part of her was relieved that her husband had died quickly rather than returning to her to die by inches. Oh yes, Alice Wilton had seen plenty of pain and death in her life. That said, all she had seen didn't make stumbling over a beaten and bloody body any less of a shock. The gin bottle hit the ground with a smash. Stifling a gasp of surprise she allowed her training to take over. She reached down in the half light and felt for a pulse. As she moved his arm the man groaned and tried to sit up.

'Easy now,' she said softly. 'Do you know what happened to you?'

'Stabbed,' he gasped. 'Shoulder. Maybe some broken ribs. Head hurts.'

'Can you walk?'

A tentative nod. 'Maybe… If you help me up.'

'My place is just round the corner. Let's get you in the warm and I'll see what I can do to patch you up.' Decision made she moved to help him stand.

It took a good few minutes to get the man upright. All the while she could see him gritting his teeth against the pain but he hardly made a sound. Eventually he was mobile and they made their slow, stumbling way to her front door, pausing occasionally to allow him to throw up. Once inside she propped him in the easy chair next to the banked fire, lit some oil lamps, and then hurried upstairs to drag the ticking mattress down to him. There was no way she would be able to man handle him to the bed upstairs and his battered body needed more comfort than the rag rug in the parlour could provide. She quickly made up the mattress with fresh sheets and then turned to the fire to bring it back up to a blaze. As she did so she sent up a silent prayer of thanks for old Mrs Murphy next door who had come in to prepare the fire ready for her return. Taking the kettle from the hearth she filled two basins with boiling water, and then laid out carbolic soap and her precious supply of Dakin solution. Her needle, thread, and tweezers went in to a third bowl where they were liberally doused with bathtub gin.

She knew in her heart of hearts that these preparations were as much to put off what was to come as because they were required but when a soft moan came from the man in the chair she knew that she could delay no longer. Gently she began to strip off his clothes, using a cloth dipped in hot clean water to help free any cloth where it had adhered to his cuts and scrapes. When he was naked she took an oil lamp and examined him carefully all over. He bore it stoically. He'd clearly been seriously hurt before and was used to nursing. He'd taken a rough beating but her gently probing fingers could identify no sites of internal bleeding, nor any broken bones. She helped him gently to the mattress so that she could begin to treat him, covering his lower half with a blanket to ward off the chill that still hung in the room. The worst injuries were probably the blow to his head and, of course, the stab wound in his shoulder. That last wound was deep and seeping gently. She knew that although it was not immediately life threatening if an infection set in there would be little she could do but wait and hope. Having scrubbed her hands thoroughly with carbolic soap she began to carefully clean out the wound sending in a single slender finger to investigate whether there were any bits of fabric or bone chips deep inside his flesh. The procedure was agonising and it was a great relief to both of them when he passed out. Using the tweezers she removed a small scrap of the man's undershirt from where it had been driven into the wound by the knife and hoped that this was all that there was to find. She then irrigated the wound with the Dakin solution, stitched it carefully, and bound it up. Knowing that a head injury could mean concussion and a fatal coma, she then, reluctantly, woke him and kept him talking until they both fell into an exhausted sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The following morning Alice woke with a start. Her neck and back were sore from dozing on the settee and it took her a few moments to remember how she had come to be there. The man on the floor was sleeping deeply, his breath soft but steady. In the clearer light of day Alice recognised him. Thomas fucking Shelby! Oh Jesus… what was she going to do now? What if he was discovered? What if he died! Clamping down on her increasing panic lest she give way to the screaming abdabs she forced herself to check his injuries. The familiar routine settled her. No sign of infection. That was good. Without waking him she began her usual daily chores. Until she decided what to do with him it was as well to pretend that nothing out of the ordinary was going on. She just hoped that no one had seen her bring a man in to her home; that would cause talk for sure. She cleaned out the range and blacked it, polished the front step, made stew and pikelets, and chatted to the neighbours feigning a calm she didn't feel. All the while he slept on. As the light began to fade he became restless. She felt his forehead. He was sweating cobs. Despite her best efforts infection had set in but Alice was damned if she was going to lose another patient without a fight.

Over the next few days Alice fought the infection with everything she had. She opened the wound to drain the puss and cleaned it out again relived to see another minute scrap of cloth flush out. She washed him repeatedly with ice cold water, dosed him with herbal remedies and tonics, and forced him to take as much beef tea as he could swallow to keep his strength up but nothing seemed to help as the fever melted away whatever spare flesh he had. On the fourth night he began raving, asking for his beloved Grace and complaining about the Germans knocking through the wall. She held him tight and whispered to him that he was safe and that nothing could hurt him whilst she, his Grace, was watching out for him. Eventually he quietened and his breathing became shallow. Holding him close she whispered a prayer for his soul and kissed his forehead sure now that these were his final hours.

But whilst Tommy Shelby was down he certainly wasn't out. As the sun rose the next morning the fever had broken and his breathing was easier. Relief washed over Alice and she was hard pressed to keep her sobbing quiet enough not to disturb him. When she was calm she had a swill in a basin of warm water and dressed. Then she composed a short telegram to Polly Shelby care of The Garrison:

"TS safe. Fever broken. More news soon. A friend."

She sought out Jim Norris, a gentle giant of a man who had come back from France half soaked and gave him 6d for the telegram and a penny for himself. This was safe enough since even before he left for the war he hadn't been able to do much more than spell out his own name. He could follow instructions though. He smiled happily and ran off to do her bidding. Relieved she went back to the house. She desperately needed to shop for more food too but couldn't risk leaving Shelby by himself. What would he do if he woke up alone in a strange place? That afternoon she would wake him and they would have a talk about what to do next.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

'Thank you, Alice,' Shelby said 'I'm grateful for your care of me. I trust I haven't put you to too much trouble'. Too much trouble? Alice thought. If you only knew! Lying to her friends and neighbours was only the start of it.

They were sat face to face across the dinner table eating the liver and onions that Alice had prepared for supper. She examined his face intently. He was thin – no surprise there after the intensity of his fever – and still very weak but there was a little colour in his cheeks now. This was his first afternoon out of bed but the strength of his appetite was pleasing and he was tucking away three mouthfuls for every one of hers.

'Who knows I'm here?' he asked softly piling up his fork with buttery mash and onion gravy.

'No one.' He looked up at her sharply.

'Honestly, no one. Don't you remember how you got here?' He shook his head slowly. 'You were dumped near the privy yard around the corner. I don't know if they intended you to live or die. It was a very cold night. If I hadn't happened passed then you wouldn't have been found until the morning and that might have been too late.' He watched her steadily without comment. 'I managed to get you walking and you've been here ever since.'

'You've done a good job with the stitching.'

'Aye, well… I had a lot of practice in during the war.' They both paused, lost in their memories of those terrible years. 'I didn't know what had happened to you or what to do for the best,' she continued. 'I sent a message to The Garrison when I knew that you would live but I didn't say where you were. I didn't want to offer you up if I didn't know you would be safe. It wasn't as if you were in a position to defend yourself…' She trailed off awkwardly. 'I hope I haven't offended you. I don't mean to cast aspersions… but even the closest family can fall out at times.'

He stared at her for a moment with his cold piercing eyes. She felt a touch of fear. This was the vicious Tommy Shelby after all. Then he smiled softly and she could breathe again. 'Don't be sorry. It was a clever thought. We can send another message tomorrow. Tell my family that I'll be back in a few days to sort things out.'

'You mean to stay for longer?' she asked in surprise. His presence in her quiet home was disturbing yet strangely she was not looking forward to him leaving.

'A few more days, yes. I can't have anyone, even my family, seeing me this weak. Don't fret. I'll see you well paid for your care.'

She bristled, insulted. 'I'm not concerned about the cost. I'm just… the neighbours… ' She shrugged helplessly.

'I'll keep my head down. There'll be no cantin'.' She nodded her acceptance.

Later they sat companionably by the fire sipping tea and lost in their memories both good and bad. Alice hadn't thought of gin in days. She watched Shelby surreptitiously out of the corner of her eye, checking for signs of a resurgence of the fever. His eyelids were heavy; he was definitely flagging but she could see that it was only tiredness. 'Time for bed,' she said briskly rescuing the cup from his shaking hand and gently helping him to wash and get undressed.

Will you sleep upstairs?' he asked sleepily. 'Settee,' she replied slightly crossly, resigned to another back cracking night on the stiff horsehair. 'No other bed'. To be fair to him he'd hardly been in a position to notice before.

'You might as well crawl in with me love. I'm no risk to your virtue the state I'm in.' As if to prove it, a few moments later he was fast sleep.

She stiffened, torn. God the bed looked comfortable and she was beyond exhausted. So was he. Surely there was no harm in it. Decided, she banked the fire, stripped down to her shift, and slipped between the sheets. At first she held herself rigid, unwilling to risk touching him. Gradually however, a combination of the warmth of the fire, the softness of the ticking, and the bliss of having a man's steady breathing on the bolster next to her lulled her into sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

The screaming started shortly after three. Panicked she shot upright. Tommy was thrashing in his sleep as violently as he had done when in the grip of his fever. She had to stop him before he hurt himself, before he hurt her, and definitely before he brought the neighbours to her door. She grabbed him tightly about the shoulders whispering urgently in his ear just as she had that last time. 'You're safe my love, you're safe with me. Nothing can hurt you when I'm here. I promise love. Wake up my darling. Come back to your Grace.' Finally he awoke with huge gasping sobs. He clung on to her desperately, unknowingly. 'Grace my love I can't do this without you. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.' She held him gently. Rocking him against her breast she cooed to him softly. 'It's ok bab, let it go.'

Gradually the sobbing stopped and he drifted back to sleep locked safely in her arms. Alice stayed awake much longer, thinking. She knew the story of his wife's murder. The city had talked of little else for months. That, and the violent retribution which had followed, with only the widow Changretta making it out of the city alive. Tommy Shelby had become a monster in that moment; a cautionary tale for wicked children. 'Be careful now or the Peaky Blinders will come for you.' She was glad that the deaths weighed on his conscience. It made him more human somehow, although she regretted the depth of his grief. It reminded her of how she had felt when she'd receive the telegram about her husband. Now he slept deeply as if exhausted by the outpouring of emotion.

* * *

The morning came too soon. Alice dreamt of her husband as he had been when they had first married: kind, loving, and eager - and awoke with Tommy Shelby's erection pressed against her leg. It was disturbing but at the same time comforting. It meant he was recovering. She tried to disengage from his embrace but he pulled her back, rubbing his face in her hair. God she'd missed having a man in her bed.

She raised a hand to smooth back his fringe. As she did so he shifted and grasped her hand in his. 'Thank you,' he said softly. He moved up so that his face was level with hers. She froze like a rabbit with a fox about caught by the intensity of his gaze. 'I'm going to kiss you now,' he ground out. 'Would that be OK?' She nodded, mute, torn between nervousness and a desire that she hadn't felt since her Fred had gone off to fight. In the next moment he was kissing her, fierce and deep, pinning her arms above her head, and pressing his lean body against hers. Any reservations she might have felt were swept away by the insistent throbbing between her legs. She shifted under him to allow him to enter her and he took her hard and fast. They gripped on to each other desperately as if the passion of their coupling could erase the loss they both felt. The orgasm hit them both like a wave. She came first, her breath hard and fast, her internal muscles pulsing. He followed, thrusting into her as if he could lose himself in the sanctuary between her thighs. 'Grace, oh Grace' he gasped at the end. He collapsed on her, breath ragged, still weak after his illness. Languidly she checked the stitching on his stab wound and was relieved to find that her handiwork had survived their exertions.

'I'm sorry for calling you Grace,' he said softly, ashamed.

She snorted. 'Don't worry. I lost my husband at Marne. In my head you were him. Anyway – I'm the one taking advantage of a sick man.' Then she stretched, smiling, totally relaxed. 'God I needed that!'

Tommy nodded. 'Me too. Turns out I _was_ a danger to your virtue.' There was a hint of smugness in his smile.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

They dozed for a few hours in front of the fire, sated and lazy. Then they ate a leisurely dinner of hard boiled eggs, bread and cheese. Finally Alice stirred herself enough to find Jim Norris and give him another telegram to send.

"Collect TS. Wednesday 1am. The Clifton. Bring £200."

Once it was done, Alice brooded. The sense of unreality which had pervaded the last ten days was gone and she knew that their time of intense closeness was at an end. The world was back in full focus and now, once again, they were Tommy Shelby, leader of the Peaky Blinders and Alice Wilton, respectable widow of this parish and never the twain should meet. Listlessly she prepared pease pudding for their supper.

That night after eating they sat together awkwardly. All previous ease between them was gone. For the first time in days she wanted gin. She went to the kitchen and firtled out the remains of a bottle. 'Want one?' she asked.

'I'd rather have Irish whiskey, if you have it,' he replied.

'My husband left a bottle of Scotch whisky, if that will do you'. He nodded.

She came back with two tea cups and then two half empty bottles. She filled up his cup with whisky and handed it over. He downed it greedily. She downed her own gin, wincing at the taste, and then topped up both their cups. With the spirits warming their veins they both relaxed a little. Without meeting her eye he began to speak.

'I want you to know how glad I am that you found me Alice, saved me. I was in a very dark place and I don't just mean that poxy privy yard. I loved Grace with my heart and soul but she's dead and I needed to come to terms with that, just as you needed to do for your husband. I found a measure of peace in your arms and I think you found peace in mine. This morning was for our past, for the dead. I'd like to spend the rest of our time together celebrating life. Let me love you tonight, Alice.'

She felt a thrill run through her. She knew it wasn't true love but by god she wanted him inside her. The ticking mattress was still laid out in front of the fire, the sheets turned down, ready for them. Wordlessly she stood in front of him, letting her dress fall to the floor. Then, feeling wild and wicked, she knelt before him. Hands resting on his thighs she looked up at him, lips parted. She stroked his thighs up towards his groin, watching his erection pressing tight against the crotch of his trousers. He gasped. Gently she undid the buttons of his fly and then the two of them slid his trousers off. He shed his shirt and then, clad only in his pants and undershirt he gazed down at her, desire hot in his eyes.

'Take me in your mouth, Alice,' he gasped. 'Please.'

She slid off his pants. Head cocked in uncertainty she looked at his erection. 'Fred never wanted this. I don't know how.'

'Just try it. There's no wrong way.'

She tried a few experimental licks of the head of his penis, smiling as he arched his back. Then she nibbled the tip and worked her way down the shaft taking joy in his gasps of pleasure. Finally she took one of his balls in her mouth, sucking gently. He writhed with desire. 'Christ Alice, who taught you this stuff?'

With a wicked grin, and in certain knowledge of her power over him, she took his erection deep into her mouth. She worked on him until he was frantic with desire, his hands knotting roughly in her hair. As he came she recoiled briefly in surprise before smirking and drinking him dry. The name on his lips as he came was definitely Alice rather than Grace. She felt that it was a modest victory.

It was his turn now and Tommy was determined to give her equal if not greater pleasure in return. He eased her on to her back. Rather than exposing her vulnerable flesh to the cool air he caressed her through her rayon shift. He felt her nipples harden at this touch and took one into his mouth, pinching the other between two rough fingers. She gasped as his teeth grazed her sensitive flesh through the silky material. He nibbled his way down her body, his talented tongue and strong fingers tracing intricate patterns on her body, torturing her with sensations she had no way of satisfying. He finally settled between her thighs and began to lift her slip exposing her delicate and willing flesh. He applied himself to giving her pleasure with complete dedication. Her orgasm was so all encompassing that it took them both by surprise. It left her ecstatic and throbbing, every inch of her skin alive with sensation. He felt equally energised and when he finally entered her, he knew that he was home.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

They lay entwined throughout the next day and the one following it, separating only to use the po or scavenge for food, making love as the mood took them: their excitement in each other seemed unending and their mutual satisfaction boundless. The time for him to leave came with unwanted swiftness. At midnight they washed and dressed silently, pausing occasionally to kiss or embrace. A heavy feeling of impending separation hung over their every action. At a few minutes to one Alice looked out in to the street. All was quiet. Tommy kissed her deeply for one final time and had to restrain himself from taking her again then and there. Reluctantly they pulled apart and went out in the street to undertake the short journey back to The Clifton. Tommy led the way, checking for danger at every turn and stiffening at every sound. Finally he saw the sleek black lines of the Shelby Company Limited's Sunbeam in the distance.

At Tommy's approach Arthur slid out of the back seat. Betraying none of his sense of concern he nodded to Tommy. 'The money's for her, right?' he asked. Tommy nodded in return and then Arthur threw the bundle of notes over to Alice. She caught it awkwardly and stowed it in her purse. Unsure what to do next she waited whilst the brothers hugged brusquely, Arthur pounding Tommy's back with his fist. Tommy turned to her and fixed her with his penetrating gaze. 'Thanks for everything Alice.' As he turned away she caught a brief glimpse of his heart-breaking smile. She smiled to herself in return. The money would help her live easily for the next year or so; longer if she was careful. More to the point she knew that she'd be seeing Tommy Shelby again. Soon.

'That woman of yours has a nice fat arse,' Arthur said with a grin as they drove away. 'If I'd been nursed by a woman with an arse like that I'd have taken my time getting better too.'

'I'm just after getting on with business, Arthur,' Tommy replied stiffly but in his head he was smiling.

* * *

If you liked this then you might also enjoy the sequel: The Safe House.


End file.
